Wheels of Misfortune
by harukafics
Summary: Ryoma and Shinji are hapless victims of their boyfriends' competitive natures.


This was the result of a fifteen-minute word challenge that ran longer than intended. The challenge word is stated at the end of the ficlet.

Wheels of Misfortune (Prince of Tennis)

By Haruka (email: haruka at ymail dot com)

* * *

I went bike riding with Momo-senpai yesterday. Well, the bike is his, and we ride double, but I kind of like that better because I can hold onto him.

We were rolling along, having a great time when I spotted another bicycle with a pair of familiar riders: Kamio and Shinji of Fudomine. We all stopped at the same street lights, eyeing one another. Specifically, Shinji and I were focused on each other while I suspect Kamio and Momo-senpai were issuing a silent challenge. I guessed that last part because when the light changed, both bikes suddenly took off like rockets. Shinji and I had to grab hold of our drivers to keep from flying off.

Momo-senpai and Kamio are sort of friends, sort of not, and it's kind of the same with me and Shinji. On the other hand, Shinji and I would have been smart enough not to have a bicycle drag race while riding double in traffic.

"Sidewalk!" Kamio yelled out and both bikes veered off the road to terrorize all the pedestrians instead. Oh yeah, that just solved everything.

That rhythm-obsessed redhead in Fudomine isn't called 'Speed Demon Kamio' for nothing, and Momo-senpai knows it, but Kamio was also carrying Shinji, who outweighed me, so the odds were a little more even. There wasn't much Shinji or I could do except hang on for dear life as our idiot boyfriends careened heedlessly towards who-knew-where. People screamed and leapt out of our path.

"This isn't a good idea. I can see my life flashing before my eyes. I didn't think that I would end up dying from a bike accident before I was even fourteen years old but I guess I'm better off than Echizen since he's only twelve …."

Shinji was rambling. That wasn't unusual. As I suddenly saw us looking down from the top of a very steep hill, I let out an involuntary girly scream. That WAS unusual. "YAAAAH! Momo-senpai, NO!"

"Don't worry, Ryoma, we're going to win. Win!"

"We're going to DIE!" I yelled at him.

Kamio laughed. "Your passenger seems a little nervous, Momoshiro! I guess he doesn't trust your riding ability!"

"At least MY passenger isn't making out his will!"

"…. And I'll leave my tennis racquet to Tachibana-san, and my favorite cap to An-chan. If there's anything left of Akira and he should survive, I bequeath to him my racquet bag which should be put over his head and zipped until he suffocates for putting me through this …."

We started down the hill and all talking stopped, even Shinji's, as we let out a collective, "AAAAAUUUUUGGGGHHHHH!"

We had just noticed that at the bottom of the hill was a staircase.

Have you ever watched those skiing events where the skiers go down a long slope then fly off the curved end to shoot into the air? Picture two bicycles with four passengers doing the same thing, only landing far less gracefully.

Some deity took pity on us, though, because when we hit the ground, we bounced once, then flew off the bikes, over the wall across the road, and into the community swimming pool.

Shinji and I swam to the side of the pool and pulled ourselves out. Momo-senpai and Kamio tried to do the same, but we shoved them both back into the water before stomping away to leave them there.

"I'm wet and I'm cold and it's a long way from home. I lost my bag somewhere back with the bicycle. If a car ran over my tennis racquet I'll have to punish Akira severely. That's providing I'm actually still speaking to him which is debatable at the moment …."

"I'm surprised if your speaking to him isn't punishment enough," I grumbled. Shinji's rambling had a tendency to get on my nerves. He gave me a dirty look, then caught sight of something past me and smirked.

"That dog is about to pee on your bag."

I rescued my gear in time, and no cars had run over either my bag or Shinji's. We left our boyfriends' stuff where it was in the street (they're lucky we didn't leave the two of them laying there with it.)

Momo-senpai called me that evening (after I made a long, tiring walk home) and apologized profusely. But when he asked whether I thought we'd been in the lead before flying off the bike, I hung up on him. Mada mada dane.

* * *

(Word challenge – Disaster)

(2005)

Prince of Tennis belongs to Konomi Takeshi.

This fic is not to be re-posted.


End file.
